


Nice Day for a Red Wedding

by xzombiexkittenx



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Marriage, Mutilation, Post-Fall (Hannibal), cannibals in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 00:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xzombiexkittenx/pseuds/xzombiexkittenx
Summary: Will proposes to Hannibal and they are gross weird cannibals about it. Written on the occasion of my 32nd birthday as a gift to all my fandom friends.It is a quiet, unimportant morning much like any other, when Will decides he wants to marry Hannibal.





	Nice Day for a Red Wedding

It is a quiet, unimportant morning much like any other, when Will decides he wants to marry Hannibal. Will woke up less than fifteen minutes before and is still shuffling around trying to make coffee happen, absently scratching at the scar on his abdomen, when it occurs to him that he wants to make a commitment to Hannibal. Something real. Something more than the fall. He wants them to make that decision together for once, and have it not be a traumatic bloodbath, also for once.

Hannibal doesn’t notice that Will is having a minor crisis, since he’s got his nose stuck in his work. He is drinking a cup of coffee and writing a scholarly article about childhood trauma. Once word got out that they were still alive, Hannibal went back to writing papers. He sends them to journals and the really fucked up thing is that people still publish his writing. They still credit him as a doctor, even though Will’s pretty sure Hannibal isn’t legally shit any more. Of course, the whole thing flatters his monstrous ego, which does not need the help, and makes him insufferably pleased with himself. Being pleased with himself means that Hannibal slinks about the place all smug and frequently amorous. When he reduces Will to an exhausted, fucked out puddle of a man, it makes him more pleased with himself and more smug. Will’s not complaining, he reaps the benefits of Hannibal’s good moods, but being the focus of so much attention is not going to be helpful in this case. Will needs to propose before Hannibal finishes the paper or Hannibal will have too much free time on his hands and will figure out what Will is up to.

Will doesn’t know if he’s still legally married to Molly or not. There are probably ways he could find out, but it doesn’t really matter. Nothing he’s planning on doing next will be official, or legal, or important to anyone but him and the awful, wonderful man he’s going to spend the rest of his life with.

Maybe in another world, he and Hannibal could have had something normal. They could have sent out invitations, and had a big party, and Hannibal would fuss over the food, flowers, seating charts and all the other things. He would love planning something like that, Will knows. But in this life, there won’t be anyone but them and their gordian knot of a relationship. Will can live with that. He thinks Hannibal can too.

They can’t have a party, but Will can still make it special. Hannibal’s fond of grand gestures, so Will’s aiming for excessive pageantry, symbolism, and flair. He figures if he aims for so excessive it becomes embarrassing that he’ll land pretty squarely in Hannibal’s wheelhouse. He needs a few things first.

First, he spends way too long looking up the language of flowers before he buys an absolute shitload of blooms. Then he finds a bottle of champagne he knows Hannibal's fond of. After that is the rings. The fourth and final part is the hardest.

Will and Hannibal have managed to reach a compromise on who gets killed (bad people), how often (less than Hannibal would like, more than Will would like), and whether anyone needs that much red meat in their diet (they do not, it is bad for a man in his 50s who ought to be watching his cholesterol and if he dies of a heart attack Will is going to laugh at him forever). So he’s got a pretty good idea of who he’s going to target for the main part of his Big Romantic Gesture.

He goes to the house of a man who has been killing sex workers in Vietnam every chance he gets to go on holiday. What his crimes were is unimportant, only that he has committed them. The message is the point, not the materials.

Will cuts his throat because he still doesn’t share Hannibal’s more sadistic desires. He snaps the man’s ribs open and pulls his heart from his chest. Next, he saws the man's hands off, just above the wrist. It's harder to do than he thought it would be. He's has new appreciation for the whole human heart on swords bullshit Hannibal managed. He makes a marinade and puts the ribs to sit.

For the table centrepiece, he arranges the hands, one on top of the other, cupped, and puts the heart in them. He cuts the stems off the flowers and arranges the blooms around the display as best he can. Once the meal is prepared and the table is set, he tucks the ring he bought into his jacket pocket and calls Hannibal.

"Hey," he says. "I’m texting you an address. Can you meet me here, I have a surprise for you. Wear something nice."

It doesn’t take long for Hannibal to show up. "Colour me intrigued," he says, as Will leads him inside.

"I made dinner," Will says.

"In someone else's home," Hannibal points out, like maybe Will hadn't noticed.

He doesn’t have any more smart comments when he sees the centrepiece.

“Oh,” he says. His eyes well up and he takes Will’s hands. “My darling,” he says. “Did I forget a date? I don’t recall anything happening today that-”

“No, no,” Will says. “I just…” He was going to wait until after they’d eaten, but no battle plan survives contact with the enemy. Will gets down on one knee. "You belong to me," he says. "I want you to wear this." He carefully puts the ring on Hannibal's finger. Three antique shops was enough to make Will want to commit totally justifiable homicide, but he found what he was looking for in the end. Old gold, with a red tint to it, and a small, tasteful ruby set into the band.

Will kisses the knuckles of both of Hannibal's hands and gets up when Hannibal tugs. He lets Hannibal put the other ring on his finger. It’s not part of a set, but they look very nice together.

"That's not...all," Will admits. 

They eat first, because the food is hot and Hannibal likes things to be done in the correct order. He doesn’t actually cry, but he keeps looking at Will with big shining eyes like the hopeless romantic he not-so-secretly is. 

Will bought rings because he’s not completely out of his mind, but he also planned something a little more permanent because Hannibal is. He came prepared with shots of local anesthetic and a good bottle of vodka.

Hannibal looks intrigued when Will gets out the needles and bandages. He looks downright ecstatic when Will explains his plan.

Hannibal gives Will a shot of local anesthetic in his ring finger but forgoes one himself. They tie tourniquets around their ring fingers and then they rinse their mouths out with vodka. Will swallows, Hannibal does not. He’s staring at Will, barely blinking, as though he’s intent on memorizing every moment as it happens. He’s probably building whole wings to his mind palace just to house each second.

“Last chance to back out,” Hannibal says.

“This was my idea,” Will says and finds that he’s not regretful. They’ve already taken and given everything there is to take, or give, to one another. This doesn’t seem like so much more.

Hannibal puts the first joint of Will's finger in his mouth. Will does the same to Hannibal.

Then they bite down.

It’s surprisingly easy to bite through the knuckle. He’s concentrating so hard on biting through Hannibal’s finger that he is somehow surprised when he feels his own joint come away. The anesthetic does its job though, and it feels strange, not painful. Then it’s done, and they’re both one joint short and there are two bits of finger on the table. 

“Until death do us part,” Will says.

“If there is an afterlife I will tear down the very walls of heaven to find you,” Hannibal promises.

“Pretty sure I’ll be right there in hell with you, but sure.”

Hannibal packs the wounds with no-stick gauze, and then it’s all over except the honeymoon as far as Will is concerned but he is one hundred percent unsurprised when Hannibal asks if he can eat Will’s finger joint.

“I’m not using it,” Will says blithely. There are a lot of chemicals in his blood right now and he’s not in pain yet. He feels tremendously magnanimous towards Hannibal. His husband.

Hannibal picks up the little bit of finger with great care and reverence. He eats it raw, teeth crunching on the bone. He cries a little bit then, but Will pretends not to notice. He kisses Hannibal’s mouth and tastes blood and vodka.

“Okay,” Will says, even though Hannibal didn’t ask. Will doesn’t make a production of it, but he does swallow the bit of Hannibal’s finger like he’s taking a big pill, and washes it down with a glass of wine.

Hannibal watches him with absolute rapture on his face. 

Before Hannibal got there, Will made up the guest bedroom, figuring they’d probably want to use it at some point. He wasn’t wrong. They make it to the bedroom, but wind up fucking on the floor because Hannibal can’t wait an extra two seconds to get Will’s dick in his mouth. He sucks Will until Will wants to cry then flips him over and eats him out until Will gets him by the hair and hauls him up his body.

“Will you just fuck me already,” Will says. “Come on, husband.”

Hannibal’s pupils visibly dilate. He drips lube all over the nice carpet that is doing a number on Will’s back but he doesn’t stop to wipe it up. 

“Husband,” Hannibal echoes and gets his cock into Will.

They fuck like it’s the first time, or the last time. Hannibal is tender and vicious by turns. Will is a mess of carpet burns and bruises and bite marks by the time Hannibal’s done with him. He comes after Hannibal, with Hannibal’s mouth on his cock while he fingers his own come back into Will as it leaks out. To no one’s surprise, Hannibal has a bit of an oral fixation and likes Will to come in his mouth. Will is supremely okay with that.

They lie on the floor, catching their breath, and Will snags the wine bottle he’d thought to bring with him. He manages to pour some mostly into his mouth. Hannibal obliges by licking the spill off his face and chest.

“You didn’t even mention the harpsichord,” Will says, once he can speak.

Hannibal blinks at him. “I didn’t consider that,” he admits. He looks down at his mutilated hand. “Well, I suppose I’ll learn to work around it, it’s only the distal phalanx. Unless you’d like to take more?”

“ _Hannibal_ ,” Will says because Hannibal would give him more than a finger if he asked.

“I love you,” Hannibal says fervently.

“I know,” Will says. “But you don’t get to eat any more of me until I’m dead, alright?”

Hannibal smirks at him. “You don’t actually need your tonsils, or your appendix,” he points out. “And for that matter the liver regrows any parts cut away.”

“I don’t need both my testicles either but I’m enjoying having them attached to me,” Will says. 

Hannibal sighs, tucking his hands behind his head. He doesn’t look as though lying on the floor is hurting his back the way it’s starting to hurt Will’s. “Mmm,” he says in a thoughtful way that Will doesn’t like the sound of.

“Tell you what,” Will says. “If you’re good, I’ll give you a couple pints of blood for Christmas and you can make pudding.”

Hannibal reaches out and takes Will’s whole hand with his own bitten one. “Perhaps another round before we have to clean up?” he says hopefully.

Will can’t get it up that fast, and he knows for a fact that neither can Hannibal. Doesn’t mean he’s not willing to give it a try. “You aren’t going to be one of those obnoxious people who never uses their partner’s name in conversation are you? ‘My husband says, my husband and I had lunch, my husband picked me up from work,’ Sandra we know his name is Dave why won’t you say it?”

“I absolutely am,” Hannibal says, and kisses Will. “Saves us having to think of aliases.”

“Oh sure,” Will complains into Hannibal’s mouth, “look on the bright side.” His words slide into a groan when Hannibal gets a couple of fingers into him.

“My husband,” Hannibal says. Maybe Will didn’t know what God felt like when he killed, but with the look of utter devotion on Hannibal’s face he understands it now.

**Author's Note:**

> Real people on the internet did the ring finger thing and I was inspired by how very extra it was and thought Hannibal would love it. I stole the whole process from them, although they did not have a murder tableau or any cannibalism iirc.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Between His Teeth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794598) by [teacupsandtime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupsandtime/pseuds/teacupsandtime)




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